


like a river flows

by loudle



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breaking Up & Making Up, Fluff and Angst, M/M, So much angst, also this kinda started out as a songfic for somebody else by the 1975, but i PROMISE this one has a happy ending, but it morphed into something a bit different, eh whatever just read it if you want, enough to exceed three tags worth, hence the title being from can't help falling in love, ok i know i excessively tagged the angst but like YIKES, so just suffer thru, so theres that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 00:32:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7596313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loudle/pseuds/loudle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"What will hit me?" Louis snapped, taking two steps off the wall towards the opposing man. "That you were a waste of my time?"<br/>"No, that I am," Harry said simply. "I am a waste of time-- a massive one. I will waste all of your precious time, every single moment until your very last breath is wasted on me, and you'll die hoping that Heaven is made of the fabric of my t-shirt that you never gave back." He took another step forward. He was only a breath away, the colors of his eyes separating into green and gold from where Louis stood. "It will hit you and you will realize that it's me," he said, smiling at Louis in the eye of the storm, eerily calm in the wake of mass destruction. "It's always been me."</em>
</p>
<p>or the one where harry makes a promise and stays true to his word but maybe he'll change his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like a river flows

**Author's Note:**

> this started out as a songfic for "somebody else" by the 1975 but ended up being named after "can't help falling in love" by elvis presley so i think you can imagine how much of a mess i am. enjoy my longest fic ever!!!!!

"You won't forget me," Harry said, eyes trained on the post-it note on which he scribbled away.  
"We're quite sure of ourselves, aren't we?" Louis snorted, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. "And how do you suppose that?"  
"Because," Harry began, dotting his i's and crossing his t's, "it may not hit you now, it may not hit you soon, but it will." He stood from where he sat and walked across the room. "One day you'll be all alone. You may have someone to sleep beside, but they won't fill the void I'll leave in my wake," he spoke slowly, his heavy steps adding weight to his words. He never turned to look at Louis, but Louis never dared to look away. "You'll see my face in your dreams, you'll hear my laugh in your favorite songs, and when you look up at the sky, you'll dread to see the stars because every constellation spells out my name." He stopped in front of the fridge and stared at the stainless steel. Louis burned holes in the back of his head. "You will try to forget me. You will try and try, as if you ever really stood a chance. As if your heart isn't made of memory foam and my hands didn't leave an impression. As if the soundtrack of your life isn't a scratched record that just keeps playing every _I love you_  I've ever whispered into your skin on a constant loop. As if the best days of your life were not spent with me, all the photographs you'll want to show your children and theirs aren't of the two of us, and you're happy. As if you're capable of truly being _happy_." Louis stiffened at that and Harry paused before sticking the bright yellow post-it to the metal. Finally, Harry turned to face him, and to Louis' disdain, he only wore an amused smile, eyes bright and shoulders relaxed. Louis balled his fists at his sides as the flames in his chest were fanned. "You'll see me one day, and I'll be just as you remember me. Same smile, same laugh, same warmth. The only difference is, you won't be the reason anymore," Harry said, slipping his hands in his pockets and taking a couple of steps closer to Louis as he spoke. The mischievous glint never left his eyes. "It will not be until it's too late that it hits you, but it will. One day, it will hit you, and you'll _wish_ you could forget me."  
"What will hit me?" Louis snapped, taking two steps off the wall towards the opposing man. "That you were a waste of my time?"  
"No, that I _am_ ," Harry said simply. "I am a waste of time-- a massive one. I will waste all of your precious time, every single moment until your very last breath is wasted on me, and you'll die hoping that Heaven is made of the fabric of my t-shirt that you never gave back." He took another step forward. He was only a breath away, the colors of his eyes separating into green and gold from where Louis stood. "It will hit you and you will realize that it's me," he said, smiling at Louis in the eye of the storm, eerily calm in the wake of mass destruction. "It's always been me."  
He brushed past Louis then, out of the kitchen and into the living room, and for some reason that likely had something to do with pride, Louis let him. He heard the front door open and flinched as it slammed shut, the force rattling the picture frames on the walls that told a story that felt like a lie. Louis watched the last spot he saw Harry stand and prayed that it would cave in under his gaze. He turned back to look at the fridge and was faced with a very short To-Do List printed on a yellow post-it note.

_To-Do_   
_1\. Forget me._

+

It was four months and nine days since that fateful Tuesday night that Louis found himself deadlocked in another screaming match with Oli as a concerned Liam played umpire and Niall periodically shushed them as he watched an old episode of _Keeping Up With the Kardashians_.   
"Oh just get over it, would you?" Oli snapped. "You never fucking come out anymore!"  
"Oi and what the fuck's that got to do with you? I know you're a little bitch but you're not my dog-- I don't need to hold your leash whenever you want to go out!" Louis snarled back. Niall grunted from his spot on Louis' couch something unintelligible but surely irritating that went unacknowledged by any other man in the room.  
"It's a lot easier to get laid when there's someone there to buy bottles for your table," Oli argued and Louis felt himself boiling over.  
"You fucking prick," Louis muttered, storming across the room to retrieve his wallet from the counter. "You want my money, yeah? You just want me to help you find a girl to suck your dick with the figures of my income because you have the personality of a sewer rat? Although I shouldn't say that-- it's an insult to rodents everywhere," he noted and fished a credit card from the cool leather. He launched the plastic card at the opposing man and nicked him right in the forehead.  
"Jesus fuck!" Oli yelped in pain. "Are you bloody insane?"  
"What? The black card isn't really your style?" Louis asked as he slipped another card out of its pocket. "Here, take the platinum card, then! Run up a fucking tab the cost of your rent-- see if I care!" The card sliced through the air and nailed Oli right in the jaw.  
"Louis, come on, let's stop," Liam attempted to interfere but quickly backed off as soon as his friend faced him with ferocity burning bright in his tumultuous blue eyes.   
"Fuck off, Liam! Do you really need to butt your head into everyone else's business? Is that a fucking hobby of yours or something?"  
"Louis--," Liam began, not as forward as his first try, but Louis was officially off the rails.   
"Would you just stay out of this? Jesus Christ! For a man who so adamantly insists that he's straight, you sure love being up my ass!" Louis shouted and Liam flushed bright red.  
"Would you lot shut the fuck up?" Niall finally boomed from the sofa. "I can't hear a damn second of Kris and Kim's wedding with your carrying on!"  
"Are you fucking-- spoiler alert, dumbass! They got divorced before that episode even aired! I don't even know what season you're on!"  
"You're being a massive twat," Oli remarked, shaking his head, and Louis scoffed in disbelief.  
"I'm being a-- well look at that! I'm a twat and you're a complete and utter dick! A match made in Heaven!" Louis spat before hurling his debit card at Oli which landed in his mouth. He choked, gagging on the plastic before it escaped and fell to the ground. "How does it taste, babe? As good as the champagne it buys? As good as the pussy it earns you? As sad as your pathetic excuse for a life? Tell me about it."  
"Louis, calm down," Liam tried to soothe him, but he was much beyond help in his current state.  
"Calm down? To be completely honest with you, Liam, it really is hard to calm down when all you want is a quiet night to yourself but everyone and their grandmother breaks down your door and tries to force you to go to a seedy pub or a sweaty club for no one's satisfaction but their own. It's kind of fucking confusing when they say that they're worried about you but the only person's feelings not considered in their plans are yours. I just want to be alone but I cannot even be granted the relief of privacy in my own goddamn house! Tell me where this situation is anything but fucked up and then I might just calm down! But until then, I will continue to rile myself up until you get the fuck out of here!"  
"Lou, you haven't been out in--"  
"Don't call me that," Louis whispered and Liam drew his brows together in concern.  
"Lou? I--"  
"I said don't fucking call me that!" Louis exclaimed, knitting his fingers through his hair in frustration as tears burned behind his eyes. "Just-- God, please just get out. I don't-- I just want to be alone and--"  
"Oh my _God!_ " Oli piped up suddenly. "He isn't coming back, you deluded fuck! He's gone! He left! He had the option to stay with you and he chose to go! What the fuck is keeping you from grasping that?" The only sound after Oli's outburst was his ragged breath and the white noise of Kourtney commenting on the color scheme of her sister's wedding. All eyes were locked on Louis; Liam looked ready to jump into action had his friend decided to explode in any possible way, and Niall looked frightened to witness what happened next but was unable to divert his attention. Louis stared at a spot in the floor as Oli's words washed over him and he contemplated exactly how to respond as _He isn't coming back!_ rang loud and clear in his mind on an endless loop. He blinked before speaking.  
"We're just taking a break," he said evenly, not looking up from the knot in the wood.  
"Oh fuck off with that bullshit, would you? God, we're all sick of hearing it! You're on a break, you just need some space, blah blah _bullshit!_ I'm calling your bluff!" Oli snapped. "Why do you even lie about it when everyone knows the truth? Are you trying to convince us or yourself?"  
"Mate, that's enough," Liam said gruffly, taking a step towards Oli before Louis spoke in a low voice.  
"I think you ought to leave now."  
"Fine! You know what? Stay in tonight! Stay in every fucking night! Let yourself rot in here waiting for a day that will never come instead of moving the fuck on like he did _ages_ ago!" Louis' head snapped up with dark eyes that zeroed in on Oli. Liam looked angrier than Louis could ever recall seeing him and Niall had all color drained from his face.  
"Sorry, what was that?" he asked calmly and Oli narrowed his eyes.  
"You heard me," he said lowly. "While you've been locking yourself away and mourning the loss of something that was never built to last anyway, your Prince Charming has been stepping out with somebody else."  
"No," Louis said as the first seam in his torn up heart popped.   
"Oh, but yes," Oli nodded slowly. _Pop!_ "He's been out dancing with him, drinking with him, laughing with him, kissing him--" _Pop!_  
"Stop."  
"--fucking him, getting fucked _by_ him--"  
"You're lying," Louis said through his teeth, "Harry loves me. He wouldn't-- You're a fucking liar!" he shouted wetly as tears stung his eyes and blurred his vision.  
"Am I, _Lou?_ " Oli chastised him with the unwelcome pet name, "Or are you just in denial? Is it really so hard to believe that yet another person has thoroughly had enough of your shit?" _RIP!_   
"That's quite enough, you wanker," Liam said, grabbing him roughly by the arm but his movement was halted as Louis spoke up.  
"Get out," he said said quietly, fire in his eyes more of a fizzled symbol of giving up than the roaring flames they were before.  
"Louis--"  
" _I SAID GET THE BLOODY FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!_ " he roared to life, ushering Niall, with a start, to shoot out of his seat and the other two to jump back in surprise. " _GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!_ " he chanted as he grabbed whatever he could reach, magazines from the coffee table, mail from the counter, books from the shelves, potpourri from the bowls around the house, and hurled whatever he got his hands on at the three retreating men as he chased them from his home.  
"Louis, please, I--"  
" _GET! THE! FUCK! OUT! OF! MY! HOUSE!_ " Louis roared, pushing at Liam's chest who backed away with his friend's efforts onto the front porch.  
"I just wanted to help, I--" but the door was slammed in his face before he could finish his thought. Louis locked it and pressed his back against the cold wood that somehow felt a lot warmer than he did. He slid to the floor as the muted sounds of Liam screaming at Oli filtered through the walls and Louis felt tears running through his fingers as he lowered his head into his hands and let out the first gut-wrenching sob of many. _He had the option to stay with you and he chose to go!_ Oli's voice reminded him in his head. How sad it was that Louis did not have the privilege to go with him.

+

Louis found himself squeezed into his pulling jeans, a smart black blazer layered over a heather grey t-shirt, standing awkwardly on the edge of the dance floor at what used to be one of his and Harry's haunts. The lights still flashed the same, the music still felt the same as it vibrated in the cores of his bones, and it was as if nothing ever happened. It was like a place that stood still in the hands of time, a photograph of a moment when everything was simple. Among the wreckage of the best days of Louis' life, _Fuse_ still stood high above the ashes.  
Everything was the same from the intimidating scowl each bouncer wore to the colorful umbrellas in the drinks Harry loved to order, but Louis was very much different. He was missing the half of his heart that would've made the night sparkle and shine like it once did. Now the walls did not reflect a velvet night but were a dull charcoal and he was tired. The drink in his fist was not strong enough to propel him through this mess he had agreed to tangle himself up in on an impulse that said _If he is okay I am okay because I am not the weaker man_ but the current droop in his eyes and slump of his shoulders suggested otherwise.   
"Come on, mate. If you're going to come out at least _try_ to enjoy yourself," Liam nudged him lightly, but his playful manner was nothing but a poor attempt to mask his unbridled sympathy towards Louis' situation. This would have been a nice gesture had Louis not loathed feeling pitied. He spread a tight smile too thinly across his face.  
"What are you on about? I'm having a blast!" he insisted and the lie left a bad taste in his mouth. Liam smiled apologetically as if he had a hand in creating Louis' sour mood and put a comforting hand on his friend's back.  
"Do you want to go home? We can go back to yours and watch a movie, order a pizza or something. I'm sorry I made you come out, I--"  
"Stop," Louis said, cringing at Liam's excessive apologizing. "You didn't make me come out. You extended an invitation and I accepted. I decided to come out all on my own, believe it or not," he snapped and Liam shrunk back ever-so-slightly with a pang of guilt in Louis' chest. He closed his eyes and counted to three, taking a deep breath and exhaling as the tension was released in his shoulders. He opened his eyes and offered a softer smile this time."I'm okay, Li. Really, I'm fine," he assured his friend with the worried brown eyes.   
"Yeah?" Liam asked, not yet convinced. Louis nodded once.  
"Go have a good time. I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself," he teased gently and Liam seemed appeased.  
"Alright. But if you want to leave just let me know and we'll hit the road, okay?" Louis felt his heart twinge at the idea that the one person who really seemed to care wasn't the person he wanted to. Nonetheless, he smiled and nodded at his friend before waving him off.  
"Just go on! I'll be alright over here."  
"Promise?" Liam asked, a line of worry forming between his brows.  
"Yes, yes, I promise," he said quickly, rolling his eyes to dismiss Liam's sympathetic gaze. He didn't need anyone's sympathy-- not anyone who was willing to give it, anyway.  
"Alright," Liam conceded, pulling Louis into a bear hug. "I just wish your smile would come back."  
"I smile plenty," Louis' argument came out muffled from where he was squashed in Liam's bone-crushing embrace. "Now get off," he said, twisting one of his friend's nipples in a hand that was caught between their chests. Liam squawked and jumped back from him.  
"You little shit!" he grumbled, rubbing his sore nipple through his shirt with a pout. "I'm just trying to--"  
"Help," Louis finished his thought for him. "That's all you're ever trying to do. Just get on out there and leave me be, I'll be fine for a few hours at the very least," he assured him and began pushing him towards the dance floor. "I used to do this pretty often, you know." Liam stood still as a stone as the much smaller man tried his very hardest to move him with sheer force.  
"I know, I know. I just... I just worry about you, mate. You haven't been yourself for ages and I just want you to have fun again." Louis' heart ached at Liam's words but he was not about to cry in the club; he was pathetic but not that pathetic. Not yet, anyway.  
"Sod off you sap," Louis said softly, pushing at his chest much more gently this time. "Please just go have fun," he said quietly so that Liam had to lean in to hear him over the music. "I don't want you to not have fun because of me," he said with eyes glued to the floor.  
"Are you sure you--"  
"I'm positive," he cut him off, looking back up to meet his eye. "Please just go. You're missing out on a good night."  
"Okay," Liam said, still eyeing Louis hesitantly as if he could shatter at any moment. He was not upset because Liam was wrong but devastated because he was right. "But the moment you feel like going home--"  
"I know," Louis rolled his eyes fondly. "Say the word and we'll be out of here. I get it, you're my knight in shining armor."  
"Always will be, you brat," Liam said, ruffling his hair before turning around and being sucked into the mass of shining bodies on the dance floor. Louis sighed as soon as he was alone, shoulders returning to their slumped position he had amended to appease his friend's worry. It seemed that each minute a conversation lasted he lost a year of his life because a breath was wasted on someone other than the only one he wanted to talk to.  
Louis was exhausted to say the very least. Everything tired him out, from locking his front door to saying _Hello!_ to a friendly face outside the safe haven of his home. The lights were too bright and he was living inside of a constant migraine, private whispers morphing into desperate screams and kind eyes turning cruel. He felt like an old newspaper clipping, yellowing with age and curling up at the edges as he held on too tightly to a memory of a world made of wood that he burned to keep warm. Now his heart had frostbite and he existed within a reality of emptiness and an ever-crooked perception.  
He leaned his forearms on the dark wooden beam that separated the raised platform of the bar from the dance floor and gave a place for mingling strangers to rest their drinks while chatting about footie or the weather as the obligatory small talk before going home together or ravishing one another in the back seat of a cab. He scanned the crowded floor that swayed to the erratic beat of a Diplo track and when he became conscious of who he was looking for, he bit the inside of his cheek and looked up at the ceiling. It seemed to be painted black, colorful beams of lights shooting from different spots and angles as the synthetic beat synced the heartbeats of every person in the room. Almost like a hundred shooting stars in every color of the rainbow, Louis made a wish that he knew didn't deserve to be granted. The air left his lungs as they collapsed on their own accord and his heart further tore around the edges. He hung his head for a breath and composed his pained expression, looking up and glancing around the walls with the plush velvet private booths in deep purples and blood reds with rings of smiling tipsy faces of those who were smart enough not to go clubbing with a broken heart. In the right state of mind, a glass of champagne would be nice, but as of now, a bottle or two would be the minimum for him to cast a genuine smile, no matter how small.  
His eyes wandered the walls and he nearly missed him, his features barely lit up by the weak light of the screen in the dark room, but he knew that face anywhere. Harry tapped away at his phone, expression reflecting a sentiment of boredom as he brought a flute of bubbly to the lips Louis had dreamt of ever since he left. Louis was frozen in his place, eyes wider than saucers and stomach climbing high in his throat, watching the familiar bob of his Adams apple when he swallowed his sip and the crease of concentration that formed between his eyebrows as he squinted to read something on his phone. Louis always nagged him to wear his glasses but he never did. Good to know that although every circumstance of their relationship had suffered change, Harry's stubbornness managed to escape unscathed.   
Green eyes flickered to the left and an amused smirk formed on his lips as his shoulders lifted momentarily in a snort at whatever the person beside him had said. He looked back down at his phone and brought his glass to his lips, saying something Louis could not decipher around the rim before taking another sip and resting it back on the table. As the strobe lights flickered, it was like receiving a new photograph to commit to memory with each time he became visible for a moment or two before disappearing into the subsequent darkness.   
He stood there for too long, watching his old flame from afar like he had nothing better to do, which, to be fair, he didn't. He surely looked quite creepy to say the very least, but he could not find it within himself to look away. His eyes were trained on the grind of Harry's teeth and the way he rolled his bottom lip between his thumb and index finger periodically as he scrolled through whatever it was he was looking at, occasionally laughing at something said by someone in his booth or responding to comments with his own quick humor, a telltale little smile on his beautiful face.   
As Louis observed his interactions, a hand reached out from beside Harry and gripped his chin. Harry looked up from his screen as his head was manually turned to face the owner of the offending hand with a look of slight confusion in his ever-clear eyes. The confusion quickly melted into something that looked dangerously fond and Louis' heart halted in its drumbeat. He knew that he should turn around and walk away, pretend he was never watching him, but wouldn't that just be the icing on the lopsided mess of this fucked up cake? When Liam gave him the opportunity to choose a place, he could've chosen anywhere. He could've chosen a bar on the other side of town, far from the corner he knew Harry to frequent. But no, he chose this particular club that he happened to visit with his love once upon a time, the only spot in Louis' logbook that would not raise a red flag on Liam's radar where he may possibly catch a glimpse of the angel's face, whether it be in the flash of a familiar stranger's profile or shards of broken memories scattered around the room like the ashes of a deceased loved one. Louis felt his heart break as plush rose petal lips were met with ones that did not belong and he wished that it was his ashes scattered across the expanse of the dance floor.

+

Louis had drank himself into oblivion. Shot after shot, glass after glass fed the devil's water to his eager tongue but the pain did not subside, only persisted through the oncoming fog. It didn't make sense and Louis was stubborn, set on scraping all the poison from his mind and emptying it into the mouth of the nearest passerby that was almost tall enough, almost pretty enough, eyes almost green enough.  
But they never were tall enough, never quite as pretty, and no eyes were like looking glasses into the deepest of forests like those of his former lover. No one ever came miles within the way he gushed unadulterated sunlight from every pore, and his shaking frame was dragged into a cab and carried into his house by a loyal friend who cared much too much. Liam should just leave him like the others who had before figured out that they were too good to keep his company, and he said as much to his friend whose face contorted at the thought.  
"Lou, I'm not going to leave you," Liam said, voice tired as he ran a soothing hand up and down Louis' back. He hiccuped around a sob as he cried harder because Harry knew the taste of another man's lips but even the thought of a single kiss filled Louis' senses with _HarryHarryHarry_. His heart pounded harder than ever, fighting to escape the confines of his rotting chest, and bile rose in his throat.  
"He-He doesn't love me," he choked out. Liam's hand stopped its motion.  
"Who, Lou?"  
"H-Ha-Ha--," he struggled to say it but his face turned green and the contents of his stomach painted his living room floor.  
"Oh boy, okay," Liam said, wincing as he stood up. "C'mon, let's get you to the bathroom," he said, offering Louis a hand. When his offer was not accepted, he hoisted his friend up and over his shoulder as he sobbed into the fabric of his t-shirt.  
"I miss him," Louis cried into Liam's back, "I need him, Liam. W-Why doesn't he love me anym-more?" he stammered and Liam bit the inside of his cheek. He would spill every secret in the world if it meant Louis would be okay again, but some tales were just not his to tell.  
"Alright, soldier," he said as he pushed open door to the bedroom Louis used to share with a piece of Heaven and made his way into the en suite. He bent down and set Louis on the floor beside the toilet where he slumped over and rested his head against the porcelain bowl. "Are we okay?"   
"No," Louis sobbed, "We're not okay. You are okay, but me? No. I don't even know what that means anymore." Liam busied himself with rubbing the expanse of his back between the shoulder blades and praying for some tension to be released. His prayers went unanswered. Louis made an awful sound in the back of his throat before all the smashed up pieces of dreams he once had that he had swallowed along with his pride upon scraping his knees at Hell's door splashed into the toilet and turned the water the color of his despair.  
"Louis--"  
"He-He doesn't love me anymore," Louis sputtered into the toilet bowl as he fed more pieces of himself to the pipes. "He doesn't love me. He doesn't love me. He doesn't-- oh God," he croaked and the air stopped filtering through his lungs.  
"What?" Liam asked, "Louis, what? Are you--"  
"He was right," Louis murmured, almost in awe.  
"What? Harry?" Louis' shoulders tensed at the mention of the name. It was forbidden territory for a very long time-- no one ever said His name out loud because no one wanted Louis to break. After Harry left, no one asked about it. Liam asked once and Louis broke every plate in the cabinet and it was never brought up again. They figured that they would wait until Louis was ready, wait until he wanted to take that first step and start the conversation on his own. However, as months had passed them by and they all went about their lives pretending that Harry never existed and Louis was always made of glass, time only healed his physical wounds. He could smile, he could laugh, he could hold menial conversations. He could wear a mask and pretend that he was okay for days at a time and not crack once. But when the party was over and the curtain closed and Louis was left all alone, he was paper and glass all torn up around the edges. He was pushing himself through a shredder with a big smile on his face and Harry was kissing another man. _He was right._  
"He was right," he repeated, more loudly this time. "He was right."  
"About what, Lou?"  
"He moved on," he spoke in a low voice, "I'm all alone, and I can't fucking forget him no matter how hard I try." Liam was silent for a long time before he spoke again.  
"Do you _want_ to forget him?" Louis didn't answer right away.  
"No." Liam chose his next words with caution.  
"Do you want to tell me what happened between you two?" he asked gently and Louis shook his head violently. "You never told me what happened. Maybe if you talk about it, you can see a silver lining. Looking at it from the gutter will only make you feel hopeless. Talking about it gives you room for a new perspective." Louis pondered this thought for a moment, bumping his head rhythmically against the toilet seat in hopes of acquiring a concussion before sitting up slowly and staring straight ahead at the wall that burned with a blue flame.  
"He was cross with me because he said I never had time for him anymore, that I was pushing him away," he paused before hanging his head, watching the motion of his finger tracing the edge of the cool toilet seat. "He was right, but I'm never wrong, so I told him he was being stupid," he swallowed the bile that threatened to rise.  
"And?" Liam pressed.  
"And then he got even _more_ cross with me and said that he didn't have to put up with my shit and--...." he trailed off.  
"Lou?"  
"And I said that if he didn't want to put up with me he should just leave so I could find someone who did," he said quietly, beginning to cry all over again. Hot tears rolled down his face and he struggled to breathe as violent sobs racked through his body like a hurricane. "I-I wanted to take it back! I did! But I always have to be right and he was looking at me with those big green eyes and I knew. I knew that even if I tried I couldn't take it back because, Liam, we fought. We fought all the time over everything under the Sun, but we never talked about being with other people. It just wasn't-- I don't know why I said it, because I knew it would hurt more than any of the shit he talks when he's in a mood or when I'm being an arse just to get a rise out of him. I said it and I wanted to take it back. I want to take it back. I-I--" he gasped before vomiting into the toilet.  
"It's okay," Liam comforted him, brushing the longer pieces of his fringe out of his face. "You what?"  
"I love him. I fucking _love_ him and when he left I thought I was dying but--"  
"Louis--"  
"But now I know I am. I'm rotting from the inside out. He was my heartbeat and now he's gone and I'm just a notch on his bedpost and--"  
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Liam stopped him, grabbing ahold of Louis' trembling chin much like the hand in the club that gripped Harry's jaw and Louis felt a new level of nauseous. "You don't actually believe that, do you?" Louis blinked as more tears painted tracks down his sallow cheeks.  
"He doesn't love me anymore."  
"Bullshit," Liam chided softly. "You know that's not true. I have never seen someone look at another person quite like the way he looked at you, and the only thing I can think of that would even come close is how _you_ looked at _him_." Louis broke down into another fit of hysterical sobs. "He thought you hung the stars, Lou. You don't just fall out of love when it's a love like that," he said, wiping the tears from underneath his puffy eyes with careful thumbs. "Even if he doesn't love you like he did before, you could never be just another number to him, love. He'd probably be devastated if he knew you thought that."  
"But he hates me now--"  
"Louis, listen to me carefully," Liam said, gripping his friend by the shoulders and staring him dead in the eyes. "There is no way in Hell that Harry Styles feels anything remotely close to hatred towards you. I promise you that."  
"No way in Hell?" Louis asked and Liam smiled sympathetically, shaking his head.  
"No way in Hell," Liam confirmed.  
"How would you know?" Louis asked. "I would know better, I moved in when he moved out."

+

Two weeks had passed since that night and two weeks had passed since Louis left his house. He slept on the couch these days because he planned to burn the bed and eat the ashes-- love is dead but he wanted to carry the only façade he had ever known with him always.   
There were six new holes in the walls, one for each time he said Harry's name aloud. He had two bruised knuckles, one for each of the broken halves of his heart.  
Liam slept over some nights, claiming it was just because he liked spending time with Louis, but it was really because he was afraid he would hurt himself. Louis couldn't argue because every time he did, Liam gave him that look that said _Remember last Tuesday when I caught you trying to drown yourself in the bath tub?_ so he kept his mouth shut and let Liam sleep in the guest room.  
"You are rotting in here, Louis," Liam said for the millionth time. "You can't just let yourself waste away in this house." Louis flipped him the bird from where he lay facedown on the couch. "The world will not wait for you, Louis." _As if he doesn't know_.  
"As if I don't know," he snapped, up in an instant, scowling at the wall ahead of at him to avoid meeting Liam's eyes. "Thank you for the reminder, but I'm familiar with the concept of time, thanks."  
"Then get the fuck up and do something! Christ! You can't just-- you can't just--"  
"Can't just what, exactly?" Louis asked him, tilting his head and batting his eyelashes with a false innocence behind his words. "I don't believe your message is quite delivering because from my end it seems that I can do whatever the fuck I want, but from your end it sounds like you think you own me." Liam scoffed and rolled his eyes.  
"Please, Louis," he shook his head, "let's have one conversation without the melodramatics, yeah? I know you've developed a keen liking to Nicholas Sparks films, but the theatrics are tiring me out." Louis felt his face burn and he crossed his arms over his chest.  
"I'm not being dramatic," he stated simply, turning up his nose at the other man indignantly, "I just don't appreciate being babied and told what to do."  
"Really?" Liam asked and Louis nodded. "Is that it? You want me to treat you like an adult, then?" Louis narrowed his eyes but nodded all the same. "Then get the fuck up or I'm leaving." Louis blinked before laughing in his face.  
"Is that a promise?"  
"Yes," Liam said, unfazed. "I'm done keeping an eye on you. You don't want to be treated like a child? That's how I've been making you feel? Sorry, mate. This should fix it. So are you getting up, or..?" Liam spoke as though he was unbothered but the rigidity of his muscles and joints as he put on the show reflected impending doom.  
"Liam--"  
"Are you going to get up or can I leave?" Liam's voice was cold and it startled Louis to a stand still.  
"I-- I don't--"  
"Right. I'll leave you to it, then," Liam said as he shoved his hands into his jumper pockets and strolled towards the door. "You're finally being treated like an adult, let me know when you want to start _acting_ like one," he said over his shoulder before stepping outside and slamming the door shut behind him.  
And that's how Louis wound up at a party of a friend of a friend of someone who didn't matter, Liam laughing like nothing mattered in the world by his side because Louis was so drunk that he was no longer capable of saying Harry's name.  
He was rocked like a baby to the fast pace of Ariana Grande's voice by the bodies pressed up against him from all sides, shiny with sweat and shimmering through the lenses of his beer goggles.  
"M'thirsty!" he yelled over the music and Liam nodded, pointing towards a doorway in the next room over.  
"Kitchen's that way," he replied, continuing to dance.   
"Thanks, mate," Louis said before shimmying his way through the throngs of people until he stumbled out into the more open space off the dance floor. He sauntered through the dining room and into the kitchen, a stainless steel refrigerator standing tall in all its glory. God, he was _so drunk_.  
He skipped over to the fridge and pulled it open, grabbing a beer from inside when he heard an all too familiar giggle. He froze where he stood, knuckles white around the silver can, and listened as the low drawl from every dream he's had in months tell someone who didn't deserve to hear the music about the last time he was in LA. Louis turned around and there was Harry, chatting with a bloke Louis could not place at the high marble table on the far side of the narrow room. His back was to him, his hair was much shorter now, but Louis could pick him out of a lineup by just the beds of his fingernails.  
He spoke animatedly but softly, keeping his listener as captivated as Louis had felt since the very first day. Suddenly, a lightning bolt struck his body and he was filled with mind-numbing jealousy that ate away at him from every corner of what was once a heart.  
He coughed up a cloud of dust that sounded suspiciously like _Harry_ whom turned around and fell silent for a few moments. Something like terror flashed across his beautiful green eyes and Louis felt sick to his stomach. The eyes once so filled with love now bubbled up with fear upon seeing him. How devastatingly poetic in all the wrong ways.  
The terror was quickly masked with a bright smile that didn't quite meet his eyes and an itch he couldn't scratch on the back of his neck. "Louis!" he said with false glee. "How are you, mate? Haven't seen you in-- what?-- five mo--"  
"Fuck you," Louis said softly, tone not matching his harsh words. Harry blinked, bewildered, while the stranger beside him looked between the two curiously.  
"Sorry?" Harry said, brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't believe I heard you corre--"  
" _Fuck you!_ " Louis hissed, chucking his beer at the other man's feet who yelped and brought his knees to his chest as the can exploded into a burst of foam on the floor.  
"What are you-- are you fucking _mad?_ " Harry sputtered.  
"Fuck you," Louis repeated, lower lip trembling as he began pushing glasses off the counter next to him that shattered as they met the ground.  
"Jesus, Lou," Harry mumbled, getting up and crossing the room swiftly with his endless legs to try to block him from breaking any more. Louis began to scream and other partygoers in the next room over peeked their heads in to watch the show.  
" _Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!_ " Louis shouted in his face and pushed at his broad chest with tiny hands that felt right at the wrong time where they touched Harry's body.  
"Louis. Louis, come o-- _LOUIS!_ " Harry snapped and Louis broke down, crumpling like a leaf into Harry's chest. He held his arms up on either side of the broken boy and laughed nervously, glancing around the room at the faces in the growing crowd. The spectators watched with razor sharp focus as Louis soaked the front of Harry's t-shirt and fisted the fabric in his small hands. He choked on a sob and Harry sighed heavily, looking down at the mess of a man. "Louis... Lou, what are you doing?"  
"Louis?" another voice sounded from somewhere deep in the mob in the doorway. The music still played, Drake mourning a lost love as always, and Louis could relate. "Louis what-- _oh my god_ ," Liam said as he pushed his way through the crowd. Harry looked up and flashed a helpless glance Liam's way who grabbed Louis by the back of the shirt and tugged to get him away. Louis didn't budge, knuckles white in the heather grey fabric of Harry's top. He muttered something against his chest but it was too muffled to understand and Harry swallowed hard before speaking up.  
"I'm so sorry, Harry, I--"  
"What, Lou?" Harry cut Liam short, opting to focus all his energy into getting through to the pretty boy with blue eyes and a bluer heart. "What was that?" Louis looked up at him with puffy eyes and swollen lips, tear tracks down his angel face and Harry grit his teeth at the sight.  
"This wasn't supposed to happen," Louis gulped, "It wasn't supposed to go like this."  
"Louis, come on," Liam pulled harder on his shirt but Louis barely moved in his stance.  
"Louis...," Harry sighed, suddenly looking incredibly tired and Louis felt his mouth go dry. Harry was about to deflect his statement with some bullshit like I _t's for the better_ so Louis cut it short before he could.  
"You weren't supposed to do that," he said and Harry shook his head in confusion.  
"Do what? What did I--"  
"You weren't supposed to fall in love with somebody else," Louis said and Harry fell silent, eyes wider than distance and jaw dropped ever-so-slightly. Liam cursed under his breath and yanked Louis backwards and off of Harry, dragging him from the room and muttering apologies to the frozen man. "You weren't-- How could you love somebody else? Why don't you love me anymore?"  
"Louis, shut the fuck up and let's go," Liam said, pulling his weight out the kitchen door. "Can you people fucking move? You got your show! Are you satisfied? Can you please-- Are you fucking _filming_ this? You piece of--"  
"You weren't supposed to fall in love with somebody else," Louis hiccuped. "I waited for you. I would've waited for you forever. Why don't you love me anymore? _FUCK YOU!_ " Louis cried between incoherent babbling as he disappeared through the throngs of sweaty bodies that now danced to the beat of his sobbing and he felt sick. Harry remained in a daze but walked slowly out of the kitchen as Liam pulled him towards the exit. They passed a mirror and when Louis saw his reflection, he vomited on the cherrywood floor.  
"Jesus Christ, Louis," Liam sighed in exasperation and threw his small frame over his shoulder. "What the fuck did you do?"

+

"You look good," Liam promised as Louis surveyed himself carefully in the full length mirror.  
"Yeah?" he searched for an affirmation.  
"Yeah," Liam nodded. Louis turned to face him with nerves clear as day in the tension of his shoulders. Liam got up from his spot on the bed and straightened Louis' tie with a kind smile. "You look quite smart, really."  
Four years ago, Harry walked out of their home with Louis' heart in the back pocket of his jeans. Louis burnt his life to the ground to rid himself of any traces of a man he could not love anymore, and scaffolding caged in the hole on the left side of his chest. He was trying, he was fixing it. He would be okay.  
It took about a year and a half to believe the vows of his friends, Liam's hopeful words in a time of destitution, to start believing them when they promised him that he would get better. Time heals all wounds, and although he could still not see the color green without a lurch of his heart, could not write a song without it finding its way back to him, could not fall asleep without seeing the stars form constellations in the shape of crooked grins and laughter lines, he no longer _needed_ Harry. He could breathe without him, exist as a separate entity, but there were little pieces of him still scattered across the world in every place the heel of Harry's boot had ever clicked against the pavement. Louis loved him; he had come to terms with the fact that Harry was his one great love. He had come to terms with it, but he never did fully let go.  
Now Julian was getting married to a lovely woman named Erin and after a series of one night stands that left him feeling homesick and charades of relationships where two played house but it never did feel like home, Louis was all alone in the world once again, forever trying to escape the color green. However, cities had long ago been swallowed by the forests and his world was covered in an even blanket of moss. He tried to rip it up from its roots but in the patches he did, the carpet only grew back thicker, and as well as he hid it, he could not deny that Harry was right-- he could not forget him.  
"Who the fuck has an outdoor Los Angeles wedding in _July?_ " Louis groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. "I can already feel myself sweating through my suit jacket."  
"Don't ask me, I said they should've scheduled it for May. That would've been lovely, I think, in the vineyard during Spring. Certainly nicer than roasting us all alive."  
"Agreed," Louis mumbled, adjusting his jacket. "Haven't even left yet and I feel like a baked potato." Liam laughed and checked his phone.  
"The car is outside. All ready?" he asked and Louis hummed, checking his pockets before nodding in affirmation. "Right, then, off we go."  
The pair walked out to the black suburban waiting for them outside Louis' LA home and climbed in, settling into the soft leather seats and accepting the comfort of the air conditioner on full blast. As the drive began, neither spoke for a few minutes, Louis opting to watch the world go by through the tinted windows as they drove out of the city and Liam chewed his lip nervously as he attempted to word the next sentence out of his mouth as delicately as possible. Tension built up in the confined space until it was hard to breathe and finally Liam spoke.  
"Louis--"  
"Out with it, then," Louis cut him off, turning from the window to look at him with an exasperated expression. "Go on, you've been choking on your tongue for the last 15 minutes. Just say it."  
"I--.... Well, I just wanted to check in with you," he said slowly, caution in every word. "Just making sure you're alright for tonight." Louis piqued a brow at him, glancing him up and down as if he could read his mind through his body language; perhaps he could.  
"Why wouldn't I be?" he asked as if he hadn't the faintest idea why on Earth Liam would question such a thing. "Erin is a great girl, beautiful and kind. Julian deserves this. What's there to have reservations about?" Liam averted his gaze for a moment, swallowing thickly before bringing his eyes back to Louis' and managing a weak grin. Louis felt dread pooling deep in the pit of his stomach.  
"Well..," Liam began, pausing for a few moments before continuing, "there are some people there that you haven't seen in awhile, some old friends here and there."  
"Spit it out," Louis spoke sharply, eyes a steely grey. "I'm not a fucking baby, Liam. Just tell me. Tell me he's going to be there. Go on, say it." Liam shifted uncomfortably under Louis' hardened gaze, the leather groaning beneath his weight, and he shrugged half-heartedly.   
"He'll probably be there," Liam said finally after much hesitation. Louis' jaw clenched impossibly tighter. "I just want you to be prepared, is all. The last time you ran into him without any warning--"  
"The last time I ran into him without any warning, I was young and stupid. That was four years ago. I would hope I could handle myself better after 1,460 days to get over him." He was lying through his teeth, because the truth is, he was _terrified_. All he could think about from the moment he opened the mail that day the invitation arrived was _Harry is going to be there_ and all he could think about with every hesitant look thrown his way mixed with a generous amount of sympathy whenever the topic of the wedding came up was _Please don't say his name_ and, God, he had dreaded this moment for the last five months. He practiced what he would say when it came up, because he knew it would, and he'd be damned if he showed his weakness, betrayed himself by baring his aching heart and broken soul. He dreaded having this inevitable conversation for ages, prepared for it as well as he could, but the lies still burned his tongue and left him unable to taste anything but a memory of a boy who was too smart to stay.  
"I'm just looking out for you, Lou," Liam said gently and Louis turned away to watch a world not made for him rush by in a stream of watercolors painted with tears, "you know that."  
"Yeah, well don't," he bit out, frowning deeply at his own faint reflection. "I can look out for myself," yet another lie fell from his downward-turned lips.  
After a tense 20 minutes longer in the suddenly much-too-small car, they pulled up to a long stone staircase that led up to a pair of heavy wooden doors that were propped open to welcome guests inside. Almost before the gears were shifted from drive to park, Louis all but bolted from the suburban. Liam called out for him as he bounded up the old steps, but he didn't pay him a second glance-- he couldn't. One more look from those sad brown eyes would have Louis crumbling before he could even see an explosion of curls or jungles of vibrant green.  
Inside, the walls were textured and whitewashed, a long hallway leading to a terrace that overlooked the vineyard bathed in white sunlight. Everything was beautiful and he was missing out because he could not fall in love with the world in which Harry Styles did not belong to him. How unfair.  
He walked out towards the burst of light, dark wooden floor protesting his weight on each board, and ran his hand along the rough wall. He stepped out onto the stone platform and was awestruck by the breathtaking view. For miles, as far as the eye could see, rows of green stretched on until they kissed the horizon. White and lilac streamers were twirled around the railings along the edge of the terrace, white archway at the far end with white folding chairs on either side of the lilac carpet rolled out from the doorway to where Julian and Erin would recite their vows and everyone would applaud except for Louis as he set himself on fire because he could have done this years ago, had he not fucked up his one sure thing. Thank goodness it was July in Los Angeles, because he was sweating from the fire that seared from within his chest.  
Looking around, he was surrounded by faces that were once familiar that had faded like old photographs as time went on and now held spots in the attic of his mind, packed away in boxes now spilling before him labeled _Memories_ and _Do Not Open_. Despite the clear packaging, the contents spilled across the floor and made his head spin as a flashback racked his brain with each face he laid his eyes on.  
When there is a breakup quite as messy and quite as devastating as theirs, rifts form in those surrounding them. Louis hadn't seen Niall in three of the four years he lived without Harry. It was sort of like when parents get divorced and they each get custody of a child. Is that how that works? Louis got Liam, anyhow, his guard and protector. He got a caring friend who just wanted him to be happy again and Harry got the human embodiment of happiness. _Fuck_ , he was bound to see Harry tonight.  
"Louis?!" a distinct Irish accent bellowed from behind him. Speak of the devil. He turned around and was greeted by a familiar wide grin and twinkling blue eyes. He looked different, hair brown at the roots again and laugh lines ever-so-slightly more visible, but somehow still exactly the same. He was enveloped in a bear hug, feet leaving the ground momentarily, and any annoyance or pent up frustration from the three years he lost one of his best friends vanished in the embrace. Niall put him down and Louis found that he was laughing, a sound so foreign to his own ears. A genuine laugh had not left his lips in a long time, and suddenly there were tears stinging the corners of his eyes because for a second there, he let himself believe that this was his life again. That Niall was hugging him hello and when he put him down, Harry would be there with stars shining in his eyes, a fond smile on his lips as he watched on. However, when he was released, Harry was not by his side, and it only hurt more because there was a likelihood he was in the room, watching the scene with a much different expression, and all of a sudden Louis felt quite ill.  
"How've you been, mate?" Niall asked, clapping him on the back. The familiar yet so foreign touch sparked him back to life to answer convincingly enough.  
"Good, good," Louis nodded, smile plastered on his face. "Can't complain. And you? How are you, then?"  
"Oh, I'm just grand!" Niall exclaimed happily. Louis forgot how loud his old friend was. "Ve'started seeing a girl, she's class," he bubbled, eyes shining with something that made Louis feel seasick. "Haven't dated anyone I was too serious about in awhile," Niall said and Louis wanted to tack on _Me neither_ , "so this is kinda new."  
"That's great, Niall," Louis tried his hardest to sound genuine. "I'm very happy for you."  
"Thanks, Lou," he said, wrapping him up in another hug. "I ought to go say hello to other guests, you know how people get when you don't greet them at things like this. Next thing you know, _Us Weekly_ will be claiming I'm at war with Jessica Alba, I swear!" he shook his head in exasperation and Louis couldn't help the giggle that rumbled its way through his chest. "I'll see you later though, yeah? Maybe we'll be sat near each other for the reception!"  
"Yeah, of course," Louis nodded him off as he took his leave and greeted more familiar faces with the same warmth. He didn't ask Louis about his love life even after he filled him in on his, and somehow it felt like he knew. Maybe it was written in the slump of his shoulders, perhaps the dullness of his eyes, or the possibility stood that maybe Louis was just paranoid. Whatever the case, he was still hopelessly, irrevocably in love with Harry Styles, and he was going to be here tonight. Fuck.  
He walked further into the scene, for once taking charge instead of hanging along the edges. If tonight would be the death of him, he might as well just get it over with.  
As he made his way deeper into what would soon be another photograph in the box up in his mind's attic, he smiled and waved at the looks of recognition on friendly faces that greeted him as he passed. He was waving at their old tour manager when he was met with solid heat, crashing into someone as punishment for not watching where he was going. Fate must've been having quite the laugh that day, for when he looked up to say his apologies, any thought he ever had disappeared from his head and any words he ever spoke were forgotten as he memorized the color green all over again.  
"Louis," Harry breathed, eyeing him hesitantly, "hi." He looked at him as though he were waiting for him to break, and Louis hated it. He hated getting that look from anyone, but receiving such a pained glance from his definition of Heaven was unacceptable. Still, he stood stock still and willed the stone floor beneath his feet to swallow him up. It did not oblige because nature never was too keen on bending the rules for him. Harry still watched him with that expectant gaze as if he would crumble at any given moment. When Louis realized he hadn't returned the greeting, he opted for staring awkwardly with wide eyes and pinched lips.  
"Hi, Harry," he said around an exhale, as if his body was preparing for this moment and was somehow relieved it had finally come.  
"How've you been?" Harry asked and Louis chewed on the inside of his cheek as he considered how to answer.   
"M'good," Louis said finally, a noncommittal shrug of the shoulders along with his response. Harry sighed heavily, shoulders sagging like a rag doll, and he suddenly looked incredibly tired. Was it just as hard for him to live without half of his heart? Curse Louis and his wishful thinking.  
"C'mon, Lou, don't do this," Harry said through a pained expression. Louis inwardly cringed at the nickname before replying.  
"Don't do _what_ , exactly?" he countered defensively and Harry shook his head in frustration.  
" _This!_ " he exclaimed, motioning between the two of them. "Don't make things awkward when they don't need to be!"  
"Don't make things-- Are you quite alright, love? Because the last thing I'm doing right now is--"  
" _Louis_ ," Harry pleaded, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He took a deep breath before removing his hand from his face and gazing upon Louis with a serene expression tinged with a pinch of sadness that Louis convinced himself was all in his head in order to preserve his own sanity. "Please just stop," he requested softly, only loud enough for the two of them to hear despite the curious eyes and worried glances cast in their direction by other guests too familiar with their past. Louis swallowed hard. "Can't we just talk? At least be civil with one another?" Louis made a noise of protest in the back of his throat but before he could speak, Harry was already amending his statement. "I know you didn't initiate any conflict, but I also know that you never looked at me like you are now." _If I let myself look at you like I used to, I might as well just say that I love you_ he thought but kept such an admission to himself. "We were best friends first, you know," Harry shrugged, looking down as he scuffed his boots against the stone floor, "and I... I miss you. Your presence I just--... I don't want this to be weird. It was never weird with us. I don't--," Harry sighed, and Louis felt his heart teetering on the edge of his unfinished words. "I don't know what I'm trying to say," he admitted, looking back up at Louis, whose heart tipped over into endless green. "I know it's not like _easy_ or whatever like it used to be, but, _God_ , it was never this fucking hard." He looked down at his shoes again, hands balled into fists in the pockets of his tailored pants, and a line of frustration between thick brows. Louis fell in love with the downward curl of his lips and the halo of sunlight around his carefully styled curls. He fell in love with the sound of his boot against stone and the shadows cast by his eyelashes where they fanned across his cheekbones. He fell further and further in love with the boy who made the one promise anyone ever kept: _You won't forget me_. Louis thought his silhouette was profound like a verse of a John Keats' poem and he wanted to write prose about the ghost of his lips and body of his tongue. Everything was beautiful but he only saw Harry.  
"Okay," Louis whispered and Harry perked up at that, looking up from his shoes with hesitation in his stare.  
"Okay..?" Harry asked the silent question and Louis rolled his eyes with secret fondness that he saw Harry could detect by the way his eyes flashed with something too quick to decipher.   
"Okay, I'll put my claws away," he replied and Harry grinned at his light joking. Louis' heart ached as he pretended to be alright.  
"Thank you," Harry said quietly, nodding at Louis with his bright eyes. He always had stars in his eyes, constellations mapped out in deep green through the universes inside of him. He was too vast for his own good, a new discovery in every touch and every kiss, and Louis fell in love with the comets in his fingertips.

+

After their verbal contract had been signed and dated, they spoke for the better part of an hour, chatting vaguely about their lives but mostly dwelling on old memories in which they carefully cut out the part where they were forever in their honeymoon phase. It was mostly small talk and removing the pain from yesterday's news, but it was something. This was by no means a path to reconciliation or a reunion of two lovers like the images in Louis' wildest dreams, but it was more than saved voicemails and outdated photographs.  
When they were ushered into rows before the ceremony was to begin, the pair happened to still be talking, and that's how they wound up listening to Erin and Julian recite their vows beside one another in loaded silence. _This could've been us_ Louis thought and forced himself not to watch the clenched line of Harry's jaw with sharp eyes.  
"Her hair is wilting," Harry whispered suddenly and Louis was snapped out of the dangerous territory invaded by his mind.  
"What?"  
"Her hair. It's wilting," Harry jutted his chin towards the bride whose mascara was threatening to run as tears rolled down her round cheeks with her confessions of pure love. Sure enough, her golden hair which stood tall in its position as the intricate up-do was beginning to suffer from the heat, wilting like a daisy in late August.  
"Oh Lord, poor thing," Louis tsked, shaking his head. "I did tell Julian not to go with an LA wedding in July, but no one ever listens to me."  
"We wanted a summer wedding," Harry said passively as if he were pointing out something as unassuming as the weather. Louis froze, breath caught in his lungs as his blood ran cold. "Though you always insisted on going back home for the ceremony, so I suppose it wouldn't have been quite as hot." Louis said nothing, just stared into the now blurred lines of his vision and hoped that death would come as a sweet release. There was a long pause before either of them spoke again, Harry breaking the heavy silence with a swift change of subject. "He's got pit stains on his tux," he gasped in horror and Louis couldn't help but laugh when he saw the dark patches on the underarms of his suit jacket.

+

The ceremony ran smoothly bar when the flower girl slipped and fell on the petals she had tossed, and the newlyweds looked the picture of bliss as they promised their lives to one another. Louis felt Harry radiating heat at his side and was reminded he had made a grave mistake.  
It was the cocktail hour and Harry was returning from the bar with two colorful concoctions in his hands, one lime green and the other electric blue. Although Louis always made sure to wrinkle his nose at the fruity drinks Harry used to order them, he favored the sweet taste on his tongue. Harry knew that even as the knee jerk reaction took over Louis' face. He just rolled his eyes and handed Louis the green glass and Louis hummed softly in secret appreciation.  
They sipped their cocktails in silence before Louis said, "You still look exactly the same." Harry raised a brow at him as he swallowed his mouthful of blue raspberry liquor.  
"Do I?"  
"Yeah," Louis nodded, "it's a little creepy, actually." Harry laughed at that, eyes crinkling around the corners, and Louis was foolish enough to feel complete for a second there.  
" _Creepy?_ " Harry said with his award-winning smile.  
"Yes! It's like looking at an old photograph except I look like an old fart and you still look like the fountain of youth."  
"You're 28. Hardly an old fart," Harry reminded him, rolling his eyes with a smile that was too fond not to be an accident.  
"I'm getting there. M'more than a quarter of a century old. When did this happen?!" he exclaimed and Harry blinked, unimpressed with his dramatics.  
"Louis, I'm 26," Harry deadpanned, "which means I must also be an old fart if you earn the title upon turning 25."  
"Nonsense," Louis waved him off. "You had the most solos in forever young, so you automatically get eternal youth. I don't make the rules, I just enforce them." Harry threw his head back at that, cackling loudly and carelessly until he clapped a hand over his giggling mouth, eyes wide with surprise at the sound that had come from his own body.  
"Harry!" Liam called as he approached him from behind. Louis' spine stiffened and he narrowed his eyes at the other man as a warning; _I don't need your help._  
"Liam, hi!" Harry greeted cheerfully, eyes shining as he turned to the other man, throwing his arms around his neck in a tight hug. Liam returned the gesture and caught Louis' eye over his shoulder. There was a small smile on his lips and, if Louis wasn't mistaken, tears in his big brown eyes. Over the last few years, it had been easy to forget that Harry was one of Liam's best mates. He spent all his time putting Louis back together that he let his relationship with Harry fall apart, and with the look on Liam's face as he hugged the man made of sunshine, he couldn't help the nausea that crept into the pit of his stomach. He was so focused on his own pain that he forgot others could hurt too.  
"How are you?" Liam asked gently as if he was afraid Harry would disintegrate before his eyes had he spoke half a decibel too high. Louis could empathize.  
"I'm good, Li, I'm alright," Harry said, million dollar smile gracing a newly relaxed face as he pulled back to take in Liam's appearance. "Look at you!" he cooed, ruffling his old friend's hair. "You still look like a teenage girl's wet dream." Liam laughed at that, the sound bouncing off the walls and coming back to them.  
"Says Mr. Harry Styles," Liam teased, "the fella with the hella good hair that propelled the world's biggest band from the very start with his giraffe legs and Mick Jagger-esque swagger." Harry snorted and pushed him in the shoulder playfully, Liam beaming at him the entire time. Louis felt a new type of jealousy blooming in his chest: _I wish we could just start over like that._  
"I see you two have been catching up," Liam said, roping Louis into the conversation. Both pairs of eyes were on him before he noticed. He shook himself from his thoughts before managing to nod and smile as best he could.   
"Yeah," Louis confirmed and the troubled crease between Harry's brow suggested he knew something was amiss with just how genuine his forced smile was.   
"Good. I'm.. I'm glad," Liam said quietly and Harry looked at Louis with something strange in his eye.  
"Me too," he said, but the curve of his mouth was uncertain.

+

As the night wore on, it became increasingly difficult for Louis not to scream _I LOVE YOU_ from the nearest rooftop down at the boy with the night sky in his wide eyes. Harry shined like the tiny piece of the galaxy that he was and Louis watched from afar as his solar system was swallowed by the Sun. Everything revolves around Harry and not one bit of it was fair.  
The band played old songs and new, and Harry was shameless as he tossed himself across the dance floor. At the moment, he had Lux on his hip, now a pretty young girl with golden hair and a bashful grin as she giggled and clutched at his neck. Louis could remember when she was a baby and Harry would hold her in his lap and blow raspberries into her tummy. _We would've had kids by now_ Louis thought. Harry twirled the rosy-cheeked doll of a girl and whispered the lyrics of an upbeat pop anthem into her ear. _I love you,_ he thought _. I am so, so in love with you._  
"Everyone give it up for Mr. and Mrs. Bunetta!" the handsome man, probably in his mid-thirties said into the microphone with a warm smile. Julian kissed Erin's hand from where they stood on the dance floor and she blushed a pleasant shade of pink. The room erupted in hoots and applause to congratulate the newly married couple, and Louis clapped along, but his heart ached where it had been broken once before. "This is the last song we'll play tonight," the voice from the speakers said and the room gathered to let out one collective _Boo!_ and he shrugged apologetically. "So grab your partner and let's make this one last."  
The first chords to a song Louis knew but could not name were churned out from beachy-sounding electric guitars and a steady drumbeat. Harry put Lux on the ground and shooed her off and away towards Tom and Lou who greeted their daughter with open arms, scooping her up to sway between them to the ballad. Louis watched the family reunite after Harry had kidnapped the girl for the last few songs with sadness nipping at the edges of his tearing heart as he wondered what he would look like holding a child with blue-green eyes and caramel curls framing a button nose and full lips. Would the child have dimples? Maybe when they laughed hard enough, when one of their fathers tickled them until little tears of laughter rolled down their round cheeks and painted trails that led into pools in their collarbones. Maybe they would dance together like this in the living room to Harry's old records, warped with age and sounding just a little off, but aren't we all a bit rough around the edges? Perhaps they would dance to this very song, Elvis Presley insisting that he can't help falling in love with Harry, and Louis murmuring the words between them to his flushed husband because, _God_ , could he relate.  
He snapped out of his vision when an open hand reached through the clouds as a suggestion that they dance. Louis' eyes trailed up from wrist to arm to a face belonging to a Mr. Harry Styles and he felt his heart cease to beat.  
"What are you--"  
"Just dance with me," Harry said softly, almost a plea. "It's the last song. Let's dance." Louis hesitated before nodding slowly, eyeing Harry carefully as he accepted the hand that led him to the dance floor. Louis reached up to wrap his arms around Harry's neck, his partner opting to situate his hands on his waist. They swayed in time to the music, and although it was a move that didn't take much technique, Harry was not nearly as clumsy as Louis recalled, and this simple fact made his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. How much did he miss in the last four years?  
They were quiet as the singer's smooth voice wrapped them up in its velvety warmth before Harry spoke again.  
 _Shall I stay? Would it be a sin?_  
"I didn't, you know," he said, looking down at Louis with a sort of hesitance in his forest green eyes. Louis piqued a brow at his vague statement.  
"You didn't what?"  
"That night at the party--"  
"What party?" Louis interrupted him. Harry gave him an unimpressed look.  
"You know the one," he said knowingly and Louis looked away, flushing in embarrassment at the memory that still felt so fresh despite the time that had passed as well as the amount of alcohol in his system when it occurred. "You said I wasn't supposed to fall in love with somebody else," he said and Louis' eyes darted back up to meet his. For the first time tonight, Harry let the guard down and he looked small in this light. "I didn't."  
Neither man spoke again for a long time, allowing the music to take them back to a simpler time as Louis rested his cheek against Harry's chest and he did not make any effort to push him away.  
 _Darling, so it goes, some things are meant to be._  
"Do you think we would've made it?" Louis asked finally, cringing at how fragile his voice sounded to his own ears. He remained pressed to Harry's chest, not wanting to meet his eyes in fear of what he might see. "Sometimes I wonder if we would've just--"  
"Yes," Harry interrupted him in a soft tone. "I think we would've made it." Louis fell silent after that, and the couple continued to rock back and forth to the music that fell like snow around them.  
 _Take my hand, take my whole life too._  
"I'm so sorry, Haz," Louis whispered, throat closing under the weight of unshed tears. Harry said nothing so Louis continued. "I wish that I could take it back more than anything, but I can't. And I-- I--" he stammered and Harry held his breath. "I love you. I've always loved you, and you were right."  
"I was--?"  
"When you left, you said I wouldn't forget you," he said, looking up at Harry again who met his eye with something that resembled regret written between the lines of his face. "And I can't." Harry paused for what felt like forever, a calculating look on his godlike face. "Why are you looking at me like tha--" Louis was cut off as Harry leaned down to press their lips together. Even after four years, it felt like coming home. Louis thought he heard applause, but perhaps it was all in his head. Also maybe Liam and Niall from their respective spots across the dance floor.  
 _For I can't help falling in love with you._

**Author's Note:**

> wow can you believe i finally wrote a fic with a happy ending ?!?!?!?! it must be the apocalypse. go stock ur zombie shelters ppl bc little miss loudle wrote a happy ending!!! this is also the longest fic I've ever published so i REALLY hope u like it!!!! hmu if u wanna chat on [tumblr](http://wellingtwink.tumblr.com/) or if you wanna shoot me a tweet to say "hey!" or "kys rat!" u can catch me on [twitter](http://twittr.com/wellingtwinks/)


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